


Inevitable

by clipper782



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Darth Plagueis - James Luceno
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Jedi Palpatine, M/M, Padawan Palpatine, Seduction to the Dark Side, The Dark Side of the Force
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:57:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23674162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clipper782/pseuds/clipper782
Summary: Sheev Palpatine is a young Jedi Padawan who met Magister Hego Damask while investigating the disappearance of Rugess Nome along with his Master Sifo-Dyas. How did he manage to strike up a friendship with someone he doesn't even like and what does Damask mean telling him he'll never be a Jedi? It isn't like he knows anything about it... Does he?
Relationships: Hego Damask | Darth Plagueis/Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Minor Dooku/Sifo-Dyas
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15





	1. You'll Never Be A Jedi

**Author's Note:**

> Rating for later chapters. Palpatine is 17 like in the novel, but if you want he can be 18 by the time we get to that point.
> 
> Plagueis is still a Sith Lord. The only divergence is that Palpatine joined the order as a child.

“You'll never be a Jedi Knight.”

Padawan Palpatine swung around. He'd just been about to leave, but the words caught him off guard. He'd never be a Jedi Knight? He was only seventeen, a fine age for a Padawan to be. He had plenty of time left, plenty of training still to go through. At least that was what his Master, Sifo-Dyas told him. And he was an actual member of the Jedi Order, someone who would know what they were talking about.

For all his seeming fascination with the Jedi, Magister Damask was not one of them and he didn't know what he was talking about.

“Of course I will.” He tried to sound flippant, but he couldn't help the waver that entered his voice. Why would he care what the Magister thought? He knew nothing after all. It was just shocking, the conviction with which he said it. Like it was just a fact. 

“It sounds like Master Sifo-Dyas has filled your head with unrealistic expectations.”

His fingers curled around the hilt of his light saber before he could stop them. Of course he wouldn't attack Magister Damask. He was _important_ and he had a close relationship with those on the Jedi Council, his own Master included. He sneered at the thought. That's how he had ended up meeting the Magister in the first place. Master Sifo-Dyas and Master Dooku had brought him and Padawan Jinn with them when they were investigating the disappearance of Damask's friend and business colleague Rugess Nome. It had been typical of the Jedi Council. A thousand thousand children could go missing every day, sold into slavery or worse, and they would do nothing, but a wealthy, elderly, _important_ businessman demanded two Jedi Masters and their padawans.

He hadn't liked the Magister then, and he didn't like him now, but...

“This is why you will never be a Jedi Knight.”

What did he mean by that? “I'm strong in the force. I know the code, I've studied the texts. I can do battle, I complete my missions.” He'd say he was smart enough to to be deceived or played but he had a suspicion that was what the Magister was trying to do. Why though, he didn't know.

“You go for your weapon in a peaceful confrontation. You distrust the Council and question their motivations. You don't believe the decisions of the Jedi are always right.”

“And that's a bad thing?” Sure Master Sifo-Dyas scolded him on these things, but he was a council member, of course he was going to think the Council was always right and needed to be deferred to, besides he was still a Padawan, so he needed to defer, even when he didn't really want to, but that didn't mean no Jedi could ever question anything... Well, he supposed it was discouraged, and for the most part they didn't. Being the Padawan of a Council member had maybe given him some... Unrealistic expextations? Well damn. He could find it easier, or maybe more difficult, to dislike Magister Damask if he wasn't so often... right.

“For a Jedi.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking his hand off his weapon. Then he returned slowly to the Magister's desk, and sat down in the chair opposite him. He was right, somehow. Again. And this was what kept him coming back, long after he should have left him behind for good, when the Council had called off their investigation. He couldn't exactly keep telling himself he hated – disliked, Jedi did not hate – the man, when Palpatine himself was here of his own volition.

“What do you know of the Jedi?” His voice was scornful, trying hard to sound authoritative, but the question was still a question.

“More than you, I should think, young Padawan.” Having the Magister's full attention on him was... Disconcerting, in a way he tried hard not to think too much about. But he could feel the heat rise to his face, and something in his chest tighten. It didn't feel _bad_ but...

“You are no Jedi.”

“Neither are you.”

He swallowed hard, averting his gaze. Why was it so hard to look the older man in the eyes? Because he was insulting him? But it didn't feel like he was being insulted, not really. Almost more like...

Like he was being praised.

“You don't... Like the Jedi...” Padawan Palpatine replied, mulling over the words as he said them, recognizing the truth in them. A dawning realization. The Magister's interest and influence over the Jedi Council, it was all based on a lie. He cared little for the order. He could feel the truth of that in the force itself, strangely enough. But... There was still a niggling sensation there, that that wasn't quite right. There was something else there. What it was though, he knew not.

“Why should I? They may be important allies, but allies are not always the same thing as friends. You would do well to learn that.”

To learn that? Was Magister Damask trying to teach him something? He really should focus on that but... “Am I a friend? Or am I just an ally too?” He didn't mean to sound offended. He didn't mean to sound so... Emotional. It shouldn't matter whether Damask saw him as a friend. Why should he see him as a friend? He was just a Jedi Padawan he'd only known for a short amount of time. Sure he always made time for him, listened to him, let him reach him on his personal holo-comm whenever he needed... Wanted that was, he didn't _need_ \--

“I certainly hope to call you a friend, young Palpatine.”

It shouldn't have made him so happy. It shouldn't have made him blush. It shouldn't have made his damn heart skip a beat, but it did. “I... Certainly hope to call you a friend too, Magister.” But... He was allowing himself to be distracted. “And as a friend, you can tell me. If you are only allied with the Council as a means to your own ends... What are your own ends?” A man like Damask should have everything he wanted without having to deal with allies like the Jedi. The muun was probably richer than a lot of planets. The Jedi wielded considerable power, yes, but not in the sectors Damask was involved in. At least not on the surface.

“I would like to tell you, but...” He trailed off deliberately. His eyes were guarded but they looked into him like they were searching his soul. 

“You can trust me, Magister.” And he didn't have to fake the earnestness that had entered his voice. Despite everything, he wanted the Magister's trust. Why? Why was it so important? He was a Jedi Padawan, he was beyond that. Or he should have been.

“Can I?” The Magister sighed, looking for all the galaxy like a sad and weary old man. 

“You don't need to try to play me, Magister. I'm your friend, remember? You don't manipulate friends.”

“You do when it's for their own good.” The Muun's gaze had returned to him, sharp. He'd barely moved but he seemed stronger somehow. Too much so. It only took a moment for him to realize why. It was the force. It was calling to... Damask? Why would it? How? He wasn't a Jedi. 

“How do you have the force?”

“Like any other force sensitive sentient, I was born with it. I was just never sent to the Order, like most others. Of course my power is nowhere near that of most Jedi.” Damask rocked his head. “But I can feel the force. I can feel you in the force, my young _friend_. You aren't like the other Jedi.”

Palpatine was silent. Maybe it was true. None of the other Jedi had brought it up to him before, but who knew what the Council talked about behind closed doors. “In what way?”

“Your presence in the force is a shadow in itself. Despite your teachings, your masters anchoring you to the light, your very souls calls out for the dark side of the force. You were meant for it. It is inevitable that you will 'fall'. That's why they can never let you become a knight. Oh, they will try to teach you, they will believe their teachings and a strict adherence to the code will be enough for anyone to stay 'pure' and 'light' if they try hard enough.” Damask smiled but his eyes were predatory. The effect did more of a number on him than his words did. “But that's not how the balance works. How can the Jedi claim to understand the Force when they shun an entire side of it?”

“The dark side is...” He trailed off. What was it? Bad? Surely, that's why it was called the dark side. Right? It wasn't like he'd met any darksiders. The Jedi Council would immediately move to eliminate any who fell to the dark. For their own good, for the safety of others they posed a threat to, or because they posed a threat to the absolutist teachings of the Order? 

“As someone who wasn't trained in the Jedi temple, I've learned to call upon all aspects of the force. Without the stigma of evil around it, the dark side is as easy to call on as anything else.”

“Why are you telling me this.” If he didn't like it he could leave. Maybe he should leave. He certainly shouldn't like it. Why did it sound like Magister Damask wanted him to fall to the dark side? Unless... He did.

“Because you are my friend.” He looked far more innocent than he had any right to, but his honestly wasn't false. “And you don't wish to be lied to, even if it is for your own good.”

He didn't see how any of this could be described as for his own good. “Then don't lie to me. Tell me the truth, the _whole_ truth. You can trust me.”

Damask leaned into him over the desk, almost too close for comfort, but it just made his breath catch as he struggled to keep up with his own heart. With Damask so close... “Can I trust you, young Palpatine? As a _friend_? Tell me if it came down to me or the order, the family that has raised you since you were small, that took you away from parents who never loved you as they should have, that told you emotions were dangerous and attachments were forbidden... Can you truly say you would choose me?”

He couldn't help himself, he couldn't. It was really too much. He closed the distance between them in a sudden kiss, fierce and desperate. It wasn't very good, he knew. It wasn't like he had much practice. But he'd seen the way Master Sifo-Dyas and Master Dooku had done it when they thought they were alone. And it was satisfying and exciting all at the same time. He wasn't turned away.

“Yes, Magister.” He said, as he pulled away finally, his eyes shining. “Every time.”

Damask smirked. The bastard. “Good.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Palpatine steals Jedi knowledge for his soon to be new master.

Padawan Palpatine scowled. In the end he hadn't even gotten a straight answer out of the enigmatic Muun. But he had gotten another kiss before he'd left. Not that he was some dumb kid who got excited over being kissed but... Actually no, he had to admit, that was exactly what it was like. And now he couldn't deny the extent of his affection for the Magister, let alone that he was... Attached to him like that at all. He really wanted to say he didn't like the older man. He was incredibly frustrating at times, even insulting, and he still didn't trust him after all that, but the worst part was still how long he'd have to wait to see the Muun in person again.

Which meant his feelings were unfortunately far more out of his control than he had hoped.

He'd been given a task though. Either to earn trust, or just because he was being used, he didn't care. He was obviously being used and to his credit, Damask had made no secret of that. But to what end? It seemed there was more to it than just digging up some dirt on the masters to hold over their heads, but then again, Palpatine wasn't exactly fully familiar with the... business activities Damask engaged in. Maybe this was something hugely important for him.

Or maybe he was just giving Palpatine something to do to test his loyalty. But oh, he was loyal, somehow. Despite what he had said, the Jedi had never truly been a family for him. Were the Jedi really a 'family' for anyone? He wasn't exactly going to call _Damask_ his family though either, was he? No. 

Those kisses they had shared had been far from familial.

In order to distract himself from his growing annoyance (with himself), he turned his focus to the task at hand. Damask had asked him (had he asked or had he ordered?) to retrieve information from the Jedi Archives. It shouldn't be too difficult, unless it was something restricted to Padawans. Hopefully it wasn't. He wanted this to be done quickly, so he didn't have to try to hard, or risk getting found out or...

_Or to disappoint Magister Damask._

How frustrating! But he couldn't deny the truth of it. He wanted to _exceed_ the Magisters expectations, he wanted Damask to _praise_ him... Master Sifo-Dyas would scold him for wanting praise, would act like 'satisfactory' was the best he should strive for, like trying to hard was a _bad_ thing. But Master Sifo-Dyas didn't know he was in the Archives looking through the computerized catalogs on orders (demands? Request?) from Magister Hego Damask. Master Sifo-Dyas probably didn't even realize Damask didn't actually like the Jedi, any more than Palpatine did... When had he started thinking of himself as not liking the Jedi? He was a Jedi, wasn't he? Or he would be one soon enough.

_You'll never be a Jedi Knight._

Why was he running errands for that bastard again? He should just forget the whole thing. Take the trials. Become Jedi Knight. Go to the Magister and rub the whole thing in his face. Taunt him with what he could never have.

_He will have you._ That thought made him shudder. It wasn't entirely unpleasant. The thought of Damask... Having him... Oh but he--

“Sheev? What are you looking for?”

Of course. Padawan Jinn. Their Masters were close (not _attached_ of course, Palpatine thought, except for in every possible way) so they were more than a bit familiar. Palpatine would hesitate to call the other boy a friend. “Nothing important.” He replied, only barely looking up from his search. It was just some historical accounts of something that had happened over a thousand years ago, but if it went missing and Jinn knew he'd probably been the last to have it...

“I see.” The younger padawan didn't push it. “Master Dooku sent me to retrieve some holocrons on combat forms. Would you like to join us for training? I'm sure Master Sifo-Dyas wouldn't mind if he's busy.”

Palpatine tried to hide a frown. He was mostly successful. “Maybe later. I have to study history.” Hopefully 'history' would be vague enough that nobody would trace it back to him. He was already clearly looking through history files. 

“Ah history. A noble pursuit.” Padawan Jinn replied with a sardonic grin. “Gotta say I'd prefer combat forms, but I suppose if you have to study history...”

“I do.” He didn't. But Magister Damask had no need for combat forms. The muun was... old, and Muuns weren't exactly known for their combat prowess. Likely he wouldn't last thirty seconds in a fight before... something terrible happened. Why did he want to be with him again? What were his redeeming qualities?

Oh right. He was rich, exciting, mysterious, brutal, honest, and beyond giving even a fraction of a fuck. He was a _gangster_ and Sheev _liked_ that.

“I suppose I could help you look?”

Palpatine tried to hide his annoyance, really he did, but Padawan Jinn raised an eyebrow at him, noting his energy. “Or I could not do that.”

“...I'll see you later, Qui-Gon.” He likely would see him sooner rather than too much later. Qui-Gon Jinn was the only other Padawan Palpatine trusted to braid his hair just right, without leaving too many strands which would need to be cut short. And they were practically roommates with their masters spending so much time bunking together. 

“If you change your mind, you know where to find us.”

He did not change his mind.

*

“Magister?” It was so hard to get time alone for a simple holo call when he was stuck being cooped up in the Jedi Temple. But he'd managed to get away for long enough to make the call away from listening ears and prying eyes. It didn't hurt that Damask was more or less trusted by the Council. Sure they trusted him mostly to be an ultimately self-serving asshole, but they did trust him. “I found it.” He didn't elaborate on what he'd found. Better safe than... Unsafe.

“Then bring it to me, young one.”

“Now?” It was late, after dinner late. Surely his offices in Coruscant would be closed by now.

“You know where I live.”

His heart skipped a beat. He wished it wouldn't do that. Traitor. He wasn't excited to be invited to the other man's home. Certainly he wasn't nervous. (He was. He absolutely was and he didn't know what to do about it.) How was he even going to manage to slip out of the Temple unnoticed and make his way (all the way) to Kaldani Spires?

“I'm sure you'll find a way.” He hadn't even asked. Damask ended the communication. It hadn't been long enough, he should have kept talking. But what else would he have had to say? Nothing Damask seemed to have any inclination to listen to, not over holo at least.

He supposed he'd have to leave now, wouldn't he? Somehow. Master Sifo-Dyas was still in with the rest of the Council so it shouldn't be too much of an issue avoiding him. He put his saber into it's place at his side, just in case, and put the historical documents he'd finally found after far too long searching the archives into a thick bag slung very casually over his shoulder. As long as no one bothered asking him where he was going he'd be okay. And as long as he was able to remain as inconspicuous as possible, no one should ask him where he was going.

*

“Sheev? Where are you going?” Of course. Of course this would happen to him. Today of all days, now of all times.

“I'm going out.”

Padawan Windu narrowed his eyes at him, like he was some sort of Jedi hall monitor. He was just a kid. 

“Why are you going out?”

Palpatine smiled at him, almost sickeningly nice. “Master Sifo-Dyas is busy, so I'm not shirking training by running some errands am I?”

“I dunno.” The younger padawan replied with a frown. “Are you?”

“I already said I'm not.”

“Okay then.”

“Okay.” Where Padawan Jinn was a tolerable acquaintance he might be persuaded to call a friend, Padawan Windu was just an annoying kid and a narc. If they were on a mission together he'd be hard pressed not to leave the kid behind. That wasn't very Jedi-like, but neither was stealing from the temple to bring ancient secrets to banking magisters. He watched the kid leave, but only for a moment, before turning and walking away himself. He didn't want to seem suspicious. He'd just have to convince himself what he was doing wasn't quite worthy of suspicion. And was it really? What kind of threat could Damask possibly pose to the Jedi Order? Was he going to impose a harsh loan penalty from some long forgotten debt?

It was really best not to think about it.

*

Where the Jedi Temple was full of false modesty, Kaldani Spires was full of false extravagance. Not that the trappings weren't real and valuable, just that it all seemed off somehow. Like the Jedi seemed off, like when his master preached of no attachments and then told him he needed more companions and couldn't even follow his own rules. 

What did those rules mean anyway? He was let into the building without much fuss, still ruminating on what exactly it was that felt off about the place. Damask owned the whole damn thing and he wasn't quite what he would call off, but he definitely wasn't normal either. He rode the elevator uninterrupted to the top floor. It was quiet. 

And there he was, lounging in his banking clan robes. It wasn't like he'd never seen him out of his office before, but it had always been in public, or with his Master. Not this. He was much more relaxed like this.

“Come.” He said. Palpatine came. “Sit.” He said. Palpatine sat. On his sofa, next to him, but far enough away that it wasn't... Too close.

“Do you have what I asked for?”

Palpatine handed him the holodisc from the pouch he carried on his robes.

The Magister stood, moving calmly, but swiftly to input the holodisc's data onto his own computer. When the files loaded he scrolled quickly, wordlessly, through the lines of Aurabesh on the screen.

“Is it what you were looking for, Magister?”

“Yes.” The muun said simply. 

His heart rose, he felt nervous. What happened now? What had he been looking for? Was he going to tell him?

“You are indeed a valuable spy, young Palpatine. And trustworthy.”

“So it was a test?”

“Not quite.” He turned on him so suddenly he hardly had time to react, his eyes intense, boring into his own as he leaned down over him, one hand encircling his neck. Not hard enough to do any damage, not even hard enough to hurt, but firm. “I don't think I need to test your loyalty, do I?”

He shouldn't have been able to move like that, and Palpatine's Jedi training should have been worth more than to let himself be utterly dominated out the gate. But somehow he didn't dare to move against the older man. The intense gaze of his deep, piercing, yellow eyes... Yellow? They hadn't been before, had they? And when did his teeth get so sharp and... snarly? This was like a bad monster story, where Damask turned out to be some sort of vampire and he was about to either be eaten or turned.

Then he was kissed, Damask's teeth easily drawing coppery blood as he nipped at his lip. Palpatine acquiesced to every silent demand the older muun made, his own inexperience leaving him not knowing what else to do. Damask's hand, the one that wasn't on his neck slid down the seam of his Jedi robes, reaching in, touching his bare chest, causing Palpatine to jerk away.

“Are you afraid?” Damask asked, perhaps mockingly, he really couldn't tell at this point. He looked even more imposing than usual, and he very much probably should have been afraid, since the whole vampire thing, but...

“You're cold.” He pointed out. “Your hands are cold, Magister.”

“Then perhaps you should warm them up.”

He looked up at the Magister, schooling his face into a neutral expression, or something like it. Something between a challenging stare and a pout. He took one of the Magister's larger hands in his own, bringing it to his mouth, blowing warm air on it, covering his long fingers and rubbing small circles with his own.

“You don't warm up much.”

“I am a Muun. We run cold.”

“Not a vampire then?”

Damask looked confused. “A vampire? What is that?”

Palpatine rolled his eyes, releasing the Magister's hand. He couldn't complain too much since he had been the one who ruined the mood. He wondered if they'd be fucking right now if he hadn't flinched away. “Vampires are fairy tale creatures that come out at night and turn into bats and drink all your blood.”

“So, like a mosquito then?”

“Mosquitoes don't turn into bats. Vampires are also very attractive.”

“Well I'm glad to hear you find me 'very attractive' but no. I am not a vampire. What are they teaching you in Jedi training nowadays?”

Palpatine would have replied that it wasn't much to do with Jedi training, younglings told stories like this across the galaxy, except maybe in places where the native population were actually nocturnal bloodsuckers. But he didn't have the chance.

“You can't even recognize the marks of the dark side?” Damask seemed slightly put out. Maybe even exasperated. 

Huh, he might have vaguely remembered something about yellow eyed Sith Lords reigning terror over the galaxy a thousand years ago, but Magister Damask wasn't a Sith Lord. 

“I am a Sith Lord.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I ever said how much I don't like that everything has a different descriptive name in the Star Wars Universe? Well whatever. Aliens can exist, but vampires are a silly fairy tale. So I have decreed it to be.


End file.
